Death of a Hero
by NickL4Dolas
Summary: It's his last battle and he knows it. But Ezio keeps on fighting. He is numb to the injuries, deaf to the cries of pain, blind to the blood staining his clothes. He must keep going. Even though he will lose he will not stop until it's over for either him or them. Oneshot.


**Summary:** Ezio Auditore da Firenze. One of the greatest Assassins. But when all his comrades have been felled by the never-ending reinforcements of the Templars, he is getting weaker and slower. But he won't stop fighting until he has killed them or until he is killed. It's kill or be killed in this world: if an enemy wouldn't hesitate, why hesitate yourself?

**Pairing:** N/A

**Rated:** T

**Disclaimer:** Ubisoft own all!

**Extra Info:** Mooooorrreeee angst - sorry! Currently watching The Walking Dead.

**Songs:** Earth (c) Jesper Kyd, Annihilation [:D] and Leap of Faith and Final Judgement (c) Future World Music.

_[A/N: This is for MerlinTardis, the awesome person who reviewed on my other fanfic Free as an Eagle! This is for you because you wanted me to keep it up, so - here I am, writing another (angsty) fic specially for you! Stay awesome! *Cue PewDiePie brofist just for the situation*]_

Ezio breathed out, his exhalation white in the crisp air. The frost crunched under his feet, the biting wind stinging his face.

The Templars were similarly cold, surreptitiously pulling their attires tighter against the chill. They faced off against the old Assassin, some grinning mockingly, others scowling and wishing it over, others blank and unreadable.

Now and again an enemy would lash out, their halberd either missing or scraping along his hidden blade. There was the constant worry of it snapping off, the constant fear of being stabbed in the back, the constant tang of blood in the air.

Ezio wielded his scimitar in his left hand, hook blade unsheathed in his right. A grim smile played over his lips before he lashed out, cutting down a swathe of Templars in a blur of steel and a spray of blood.

Red spattered like spilled water, the contrast stark against the white.

Ezio gave a grunt of exertion as he swung the scimitar again, but this time it caught on the haft of a halberd, tearing it from his grasp. He almost cried out with frustration as the weapon flew from his hand, sticking deep into the thick snow behind a bunch of smirking Templars. He unsheathed his hidden blade and slashed and parried, desperately trying to reach his weapon.

A gash cut his brow, the blood trickling over his right eye, but Ezio was numb to the sharp sting of pain and the warmth of the blood on his cold skin. His beard was matted with dark red from a small but deep cut across his cheekbone.

Ezio lashed out again, spiking an enemy like a fish on a knife. But, even with his efforts, he couldn't reach the scimitar: seeing what he was doing, some Templars had congregated in front of the weapon.

A halberd gouged a shallow yet bloody hole in the back of the Assassin's neck, tearing a hole through the material of his hood; he pulled the weapon down, ripping the gouge into a gash. But Ezio didn't feel it. He was numb, deaf and blind to everything except the heat of the battle he was steadily losing. His strength was waning like a moon, no longer round like the wound in his neck. His breath was rough and tight, the white plumes of his breath being quickly exhaled.

Another halberd snagged on his hood, dragging the covering off, exposing Ezio's face. The Templars took advantage of his momentary shock at his exposure, gaining confidence and getting closer to the Assassin.

Unable to pull his hood back up without lowering his guard, Ezio left it hanging down his back.

"Merda," he cursed, watching with horror as more reinforcements flooded towards him. He couldn't fight them off, but all his comrades lay dead or dying.

He snatched a scimitar from a fallen Assassin, before performing the hook-and-roll, flipping over the nearest Templar. Then Ezio scaled a building, standing on top to catch his breath.

An arrow thwacked his right shoulder with a palpable jolt of déjà vu, before it was yanked out and abandoned where the Assassin had stood.

The Templars gave an angry roar as they saw their quarry escaping, but those cries were cut off with gleeful catcalls as they saw more of their men charging towards the Assassin.

A large Templar lunged at Ezio as he sprinted past, barrelling hard into the Assassin; this sent them both spiralling off the building edge to land with a sickening crack far below.

When Ezio opened his eyes he felt like every bone in his body was broken. He felt like one big bruise, his extremities aching with agony from the drop.

Sprawled underneath him was the big Templar who had jumped him. He had seemingly cushioned the Assassin's fall.

Ezio got up and kicked the man suspiciously. His head lolled at a wrong angle. Ezio looked around for anyone. It was then that he realised he was surrounded by lots and lots of Templars. He groaned.

"The Assassin felled finally," the captain smirked. Ezio glared at the smirking man with fire in his dark eyes. He was hauled to his feet roughly and carelessly, his hood yanked back so his head was pulled back too. It was like a submissive animal exposing its throat.

Ezio spat in the captain's face when the man neared. The captain wiped his face, the smile still intact, much to Ezio's discomfort.

"Why, Ezio, are you doing this?" he asked softly. A sea of halberds was bristling around Ezio. He stayed silent. The captain, deciding the Assassin wasn't going to speak, kept talking.

"For crimes against the Knights Templar, and other countless sins, we shall hang the Master Assassin Ezio Auditore da Firenze in the hope it will cleanse him of his misdeeds. So, Ezio, any last words?" the captain continued triumphantly.

"What do you want to say before I kill you?" Ezio replied evenly. The captain chuckled, almost pityingly.

"You are in no position to threaten me, Ezio," he answered, unwavering in his smile. "Here we are, my men ready to skewer you like a hunted animal, a hundred arrows nocked and aimed at your head. You are half blind with blood and weak from the lack of it. But you have the audacity - or is it sheer folly - to say you're going to kill me? You must be joking."

Ezio struggled but it was fruitless. He realised with shock that the Templars were actually supporting him; if they had not been grasping his arms, he might have sagged onto the floor, his legs having given out from loss of blood and strength.

He grit his teeth against the wave of pain he had blocked until now. He almost shook from the agony, breaking out in a cold sweat.

He saw the coil of rope one Templar held. It was shoved into his arms. He was expected to tie his own noose: if he tied it tight he would be strangled substantially. If he tied it loosely he would fall to his death, for the hanging platform protruded over the edge of the building he had run over. He had no choice. He would die either way.

Ezio decided to tie his noose fairly noose - if he could be would slip away, without a tight noose to unravel. And the noose also wouldn't give the moment his feet left the ground.

He handed it back, but to his dismay it was checked over and tightened a lot. These Templars weren't taking any chances.

"Don't try to fight it Ezio," the captain told him. "I might suggest joining us. But you'd just cut our throats in our sleep."

"I would do that with pleasure," Ezio added coldly. The smile flickered and left the captain's face.

"Do it," he snapped, flinging the noose into a Templar's midriff. The man gave a smug smile and slowly, painfully slowly, placed the noose around his neck.

Ezio wanted to fight back, but he didn't want to become a hedgehog made of halberds or arrows. But he didn't want to hang either.

As if he had a choice.

"Nice knowing you, Ezio Auditore da Firenze," the captain laughed, watching the body swing in the breeze at the end of the rope. He turned and stalked away.

The hood was pulled back, caught under the noose. So everyone could see the calm expression on the Assassin's face. Not one of fear or anguish. More one of tranquility and peace.

It was the death of a hero, honourable and quiet, but remembered among the greatest dead Assassins. Like Altaïr.

Except now it was Ezio.

[A/N: Sorry to ruin the angsty feel, but DirectionallyChallengedKenshi and I decided to try something: listening to the song Blurred Lines while typing. Every time there was a 'woo' in the song we had to type it into the story. So, here's the paragraph I did that it:

{[(When Ezio opened his eyes he felt like every bone in his body woo was broken. He woo felt like one woo big bruise woo, his woo extremities aching woo with agony woo from woo the drop woo woo.  
Sprawled underneath to woo Ezio was the big woo Templar who woo had jumped him woo. He got up and kicked the man woo suspiciously. His woo head lolled woo woo at a wrong angle. Woo Ezio looked woo around for anyone. Woo then woo he realised woo he was surrounded woo by lots and lots woo of Templars woo. He groaned woo.  
"The Assassin woo felled woo finally," the captain smirked woo. Woo Ezio woo glared at the smirking woo man with fire woo in his dark eyes woo. He was hauled woo to his feet roughly woo and carelessly, woo his hood woo yanked woo back so his head was pulled back woo too. It was woo like a submissive woo animal woo exposing its woo throat woo.  
Ezio woo spat in the captain's woo face when woo the man woo neared. Woo the woo captain wiped woo his face woo, the smile still woo intact, much to woo Ezio's discomfort woo.  
"Why, woo Ezio, woo are you woo doing this woo?" he asked woo softly. A sea of woo halberds woo was bristling woo around woo Ezio woo. He woo stayed silent.)]}


End file.
